This weekend, in Franciscan places throughout the world, the 800th Anniversary of the Transitus of St. Francis - the remembrance of his passing from his earthly life to eternal life - is being commemorated. For the Franciscan family, this is an annual event where we remember Francis’s parting words: “I have done what I was to do, may God teach you what you are to do.” However, what makes this year different from all others is that Pope Leo has designated 2026 as a special year of remembrance. In doing so, he also has invited the entire people of God to join in remembering the Poverello of Assisi, the troubadour of God, the unrelenting ambassador for peace, the pilgrim of hope, and the missionary disciple of God’s incarnate love, who lived the evangelical life - disarmed and disarming, always conscious of God’s holy manner of working in all of Creation.

On this Twenty-seventh Sunday of Ordinary Time, our readings provide us with powerful images - some are disturbing and unsettling, some are inspiring and engaging, and others are catalysts for action and commitment.  

Let us begin with the Prophet Isaiah and his song about his Friend and his Friend’s Vineyard (Is 5:1-7). As I reflected on this passage, I could not help but think of the California vineyards that were destroyed by fire and smoke, the vineyards in France that succumbed to drought and unrelenting scorching temperatures, and the vineyards across several major wine regions of the world that were devastated by severe flooding in recent months. For me, these harrowing images brought Isaiah’s words to life - and begged the theodicy question: Has our world become the vineyard in the hands of an angry God?  

Beyond these actual vineyards, I believe we are being invited to consider not only how the metaphorical vineyard of our world – as depicted on the nightly news - is being de-created by so-called acts of God, but to ask ourselves in what ways our human hands, driven by vengeance, greed, impunity and insolence, are destroying the vineyard of Creation entrusted to our care?  This question brings us directly to Chapter 21 of the Gospel according to Saint Matthew, where Isaiah’s Song of the Vineyard is transposed into the ballad of the Parable of the Tenants (Matt 21:33-43).

This passage begins with the landowner who leases his fruitful vineyard to tenants. When vintage time comes, he sends three servants to obtain the produce. They are beaten, stoned and killed by the tenants. The landowner sends more servants who meet with the same fate. He then sends his son believing the tenants will treat him differently, but they do not. They throw the son out of the vineyard and they kill him.  The allegory does not require much explanation.  The landowner is God. The servants are the prophets. The son and heir is Jesus Christ. The vineyard is the people of the covenant. As for the wicked tenants? In today’s world, let us look around, and face the haunting question: Is it I, Lord?  Is it us, Lord? Indeed, to what degree might we be judged and found guilty by our landowner God as wicked tenants, not only for what we have done, but even more tragically for what we have failed to do?

But … the parable does not end there.  It offers us another horizon for reflection. The landowner does not destroy the vineyard, along with punishing the evil tenants. No, the vineyard remains and is leased to new tenants who will produce for the landowner an abundant vintage of good fruits.  Could it be that today our God is calling us to be those new tenants to whom God is entrusting God’s vineyard?  

Perhaps, our second reading from the fourth chapter of the Letter to the Philippians (4:6-9) provides us with answer as to how as “new tenants” we are called to proceed.

Let us be attentive to the message that Paul and Timothy are sending to us today: “Whatever you have learned or received or heard from me or seen in me—put it into practice.” Don’t be anxious. Be steadfast in prayer. Ask God for what you need. Be thankful. Let your hearts and minds be united Christ, that you may know what is true in a world of lies and deception, that you may know what is noble in a world of hubris and pomp, that you may know what is right in a world that lacks a moral compass, that you may discover what is pure, lovely, and admirable, and often hidden from sight, in a world of corruption, horror and infamy. Put into practice what you have learned, received and heard and know that the God of peace will be with you.

In the world of the Thirteenth Century, Francis of Assisi took these words to heart. Today, in 2026, let us do the same, remembering that we, too, have been chosen from the world to go and produce good fruit, fruit that will remain (Jn 15:16).

Viewed from a Franciscan perspective, one of the most important fruits is sharing the blessing “May the Lord give you peace” (The Testament of St. Francis, 23) with human beings and all of creation.  On the occasion of this feast, I would like to conclude with the prayer of Pope Leo:

Saint Francis, our brother, you who eight hundred years ago
went to meet Sister Death as a man at peace,
intercede for us before the Lord.

You recognized true peace in the Crucifix of San Damiano,
teach us to seek in Him the source of all reconciliation
that breaks down every wall.

You who, unarmed, crossed the lines of war
and misunderstanding,
give us the courage to build bridges
where the world raises up boundaries.

In this time afflicted by conflict and division,
intercede for us so that we may become peacemakers:
unarmed and disarming witnesses of the peace that comes from Christ.

Amen

LETTER OF THE HOLY FATHER LEO XIV TO THE MINISTERS GENERAL OF THE CONFERENCE OF THE FRANCISCAN FAMILY ON THE OCCASION OF THE OPENING OF THE EIGHTH CENTENARY OF THE DEATH OF ST. FRANCIS OF ASSISI

[Assisi, 10 January 2026]